


Turn Me Inside Out

by GoldFrostbite13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Actual Cannibalism A Human Eating Another Human, Cannibalism, Don't Read This, Drarry, Graphic Description of Corpses, Graphic Description of Human Anatomy, Gross, I'M SERIOUS THIS IS SO GROSS, Kinky, M/M, Makes You Want to Throw Up, Masochistic Draco, Really 18+, Sexual Fantasy, Suicide, Super Graphic and Explicit, Vorarephalia, Vore, WARNING DON'T READ RIGHT AROUND MEALS, Will Take Away Your Innocence, disgusting, drarry oneshot, lots of blood, sadist Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldFrostbite13/pseuds/GoldFrostbite13
Summary: Draco wants to commit suicide but in a very special way. So when he hears that Harry is a vorarephiliac, he enlists his help in the Room of Requirement for the most memorable death ever.Very graphic and disgusting descriptions of the human body with sexual undertones. If you have a weak stomach, have PTSD, used to self-harm, have/used to have suicidal thoughts, are under 18+, this is strongly not recommended.Only for the brave of heart and the strong of stomach. I'm sorry I wrote this.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 31
Kudos: 59
Collections: Lizzyant Drarry





	Turn Me Inside Out

**Author's Note:**

> I ONLY WROTE THIS BECAUSE I WAS BORED AND WANTED TO PRACTICE WRITING GORE I'M SO SO SORRY IF I DESTROY YOUR INNOCENCE PLEASE DON'T BLAME ME  
> DISCLAIMER: THIS WILL TAKE AWAY YOUR INNOCENCE IF YOU'RE A CHILD PLEASE DON'T READ THIS TRUST ME

**Warning: Extremely graphic gore and sexual themes follow; not recommended for readers under age 14. May disgust the majority of readers. Continue at your own discretion.**

Draco Malfoy wanted to die. It was likely that any person in his position would want to die; after all, the young Slytherin had spent the majority of his life in abject misery and stress. From being abused by his father from a young age to being oppressed by the darkest wizard of all time, Draco’s existence had been less-than-satisfactory. And matters had not been improved the Chosen One vanquished the Dark Lord, throwing Draco’s purpose in the gutter. What was he supposed to do now? Embrace the new, peaceful golden age? Sit back and watch the globe continue to rotate on its axis, as if his own world hadn’t spun out of his control?

Plus, Draco had to attend school for a whole more year, along with many other students that had been displaced during the Wizarding War. And after school, he probably faced Azkaban - Lucius Malfoy was doing his best to keep his family’s perceived innocence from imploding, but he seemed unlikely to succeed. All things considered, Draco was screwed, and not in the good way.

The eighteen-year-old desired death so badly. But he couldn’t be satisfied with a simple _Avada Kedavra,_ poof, gone. No, he wanted to go out with a spectacular bang. A death that would remain imprinted on the minds of anyone who was lucky enough to witness it.

Draco Malfoy wanted to be eaten.

∞ ∞ ∞

The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, received a sparkling reputation right after the Battle of Hogwarts. He had, after all, killed the tormentor of the wizarding world not once, but twice. Well…about eight times, actually, if one counted the Horcruxes.

However, during a start-of-term party in the Gryffindor dorms, a high-stakes truth or dare game left a terrible stain on that reputation. He should’ve left once someone brought in the bootlegged Veritaserum. But he was having too much fun - and the firewhisky muddling his thoughts did nothing for his judgement.

“Here’s a spicy one,” Dean said mischievously once Harry had asked for truth. “What’s a sexual fantasy or kink of yours?” The girls and guys in the truth or dare circle all giggled, expecting something like choking, dominance, or maybe some sort of fantasy involving Quidditch.

Harry didn’t want to answer the question, but the Veritaserum overtook his hesitation and loosened his tongue. “I’m a vorarephiliac,” He said, turning red, “Which means…I, er…Get turned on at the thought of eating live things.” He tried to stop there, but the potion sensed an incomplete answer. “My sexual fantasy is to one day eat someone alive.”

The Gryffindor common room became so silent that they could hear leftover rain dripping from the eaves outside. Dean, brave Dean, was the first to say something. “Ah…Well, you’re not going to act on it, right?” He chuckled stiffly.

“Oh…Yeah, of course not,” Harry replied, and faked a laugh as well.

To his knowledge, he wasn’t lying. But for days afterward, Harry felt multiple pairs of eyes on him every time he walked down a hallway. Hermione and Ron, true friends until the end, never mentioned the incident and acted like everything was normal. Harry himself tried to pretend like it hadn’t happened as well, but he found himself lying awake at night, wondering what had prompted him to answer with such a rare, awful kink. After all, he actually _was_ kind of into normal things, like slapping and light biting.

He supposed the origin of his vorarephilia came from an event that had occurred when he was ten. One night, at the Dursley’s, Dudley left his television on and Harry creeped out into the living room to watch whatever was playing. The title of the movie - Harry would never forget it - was _Slave of the Cannibal God._ It was an Italian cult movie from the 1970s, and it entranced young Harry with its weird plot and acting. But most intriguing of all were the scenes of graphic cannibalism. The bright blood splashing, flesh being ripped from bone…the images haunted Harry ever since. In his mid-adolescence, he had managed to get ahold of vore-related porn magazines delivered from owl post, just to see if the obsession still held up, but it didn’t do much for him.

So why did the Veritaserum make him reveal his dark secret?

Harry walked alone in the hallway on his way back up to the Gryffindor Tower after the day’s classes had concluded. So lost in thought was he that he didn’t notice Draco until he tapped him on the shoulder.

“Potter!”

Harry frowned at the sight of him. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

Draco looked around fervently; the hallway was deserted. “In here,” He hissed, and grabbed the sleeve of Harry’s robe, pulling him into an empty classroom.

“Hey!” Harry protested, twisting out of Draco’s grip as soon as they were inside. The Slytherin closed the door behind him, breathing heavily. His grey eyes looked back and forth, as if checking the classroom for hidden listeners.

“Is it true you’re a vorarephiliac?” Draco asked eagerly.

Harry sighed; of course, Hogwarts’s students had seen fit to spread his secret everywhere. “Yeah. So?” He waited for Draco’s teasing to begin.

Instead, Draco ran a nervous hand through his hair and began to pace, muttering to himself. Harry squinted curiously at him.

“Eat me,” Draco said forcefully, looking Harry dead in the eye.

Harry snorted. “Ask Pansy to suck your dick, not me. That’s one of your weaker attempts at blackmail, Malfoy.”

“No, I mean…” Draco clenched his jaw. “I want you to _eat me_. Literally.”

The silence was palpable. Confusion, then realization, then disgust, and finally horror rapidly dawned over Harry’s face. “You want me to…why!?”

“For starters, I’m a vorarephiliac too,” Draco quickly explained, “And I want to kill myself. I planned on hanging or drowning if no one came along, but…” He spread his hands, a manic grin on his face, “Here you are.”

Harry only stared at him, horrified. “But I don’t…Really want to…” He shut his eyes tight. A primal urge deep within his gut tugged at his senses, telling him that this was what he’d always craved. And he _hated_ Malfoy - this would be a good chance to get rid of him.

“You do,” Draco stepped forward, and before Harry could stop him, gently but firmly placed a long-fingered hand around his neck. Draco brushed his lips along Harry’s jaw, his mouth coming to hover next to his ear. “You want to eat me, I know you do…”

His skin was unbelievably soft and supple, and Harry let out an involuntary groan of pure sexual frustration. Draco smirked and stepped back, Harry glaring at him with all his might. “Think about it,” The Slytherin said with an elegant shrug, and slipped out of the classroom.

∞ ∞ ∞

It was a testament to his patience, Harry felt, that he was able to hold out for three more days after his conversation with Malfoy. Practically all he thought about was getting his hands on him, gouging his flesh with his teeth as Draco begged for mercy beneath him. Harry’s thoughts were becoming concerning, even to him - he knew he had a few sadistic bones in his body, he just didn’t know how many.

On Friday, the Gryffindor eighth-years had Potions with their Slytherin counterparts. At the end of class, Draco caught Harry’s eye from across the room and licked his lips suggestively. Harry was so filled with pent-up sexual tension that his knees actually buckled, and Hermione had to help him up.

“Are you okay, Harry?” She said, brushing off his robes.

“I’m fine,” Harry mumbled, “Tripped over a loose flagstone.”

Right after dinner ended, Harry parted from his friends and found Malfoy in the crowd. The blond had extracted himself from his cronies as well, and the two met at the entrance to the dining hall.

"I’m ready,” Harry told him, swallowing nervously.

“That’s great to hear,” Draco replied smoothly.

“So, what’s the plan?” Harry said, lowering his voice as the pair walked into one of the emptier hallways. “You have a plan, right?

“Of course, I have a plan!” Malfoy snapped. “What do I look like, an amateur?”

“Oh, so you’ve been eaten before?” Harry said dryly, and Malfoy only scowled.

“Meet me tomorrow night at the entrance to the Room of Requirement,” The Slytherin instructed.

“You mean the one we burned down?”

“I checked it and it still works.”

“Really? That’s-”

“Irrelevant, Potter,” Malfoy said haughtily. “Just be there at midnight. And,” He said, leaning in, “Make sure you’re hungry.” He winked as he strode away, leaving Harry blushing furiously.

∞ ∞ ∞

**Final Warning: Major blood and disgusting descriptions of human anatomy ahead. Proceed with an empty stomach and fresh air readily available.**

Saturday night came with a sense of foreboding, but Harry pushed away the anxious thoughts in his head and donned his Invisibility Cloak. Tiptoeing quietly through Hogwarts’s dark hallways, he soon came to the corridor where the Room of Requirement was hidden. Malfoy was not yet there.

_Did he set me up?_ Harry thought worriedly, but then footsteps began to echo from the other side of the corridor. The air shimmered in a person-shaped figure, then Draco appeared. Harry pulled off his Cloak, wearing a grim expression.

“You’re on time,” Malfoy said with a grin. “Let’s summon it, then.”

“Right.” Harry closed his eyes and walked back and forth along the corridor, hearing Malfoy do the same. _I want a place where I can sexually eat Malfoy,_ he thought, feeling rather stupid. But soon, a telltale grating sound reached his ears, and both young men opened their eyes to see the door to the Room of Requirement.

“Here goes nothing,” Harry said with a sigh, and they entered one after the other.

The Room of Requirement was as small as Harry had ever seen it. It mostly resembled a bedroom, with a huge four-poster bed draped in scarlet sheets in the center. Off to the side - and Harry flinched at this - stood a table that was laden with wickedly sharp blades of all kinds, from a tiny dagger to a full Greek-style sword.

“Wow,” Draco said, eyeing the weaponry, “That’s…extensive.”

“Um…” Harry dropped his Invisibility Cloak on the ground. His heart was beating extraordinarily fast. “Before we begin, I want to be sure…You definitely want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to cut you? And eat your flesh? And leave you for dead?”

“Yes. Although, don’t cut my face, please.”

“No problem,” Harry’s head felt light, but he wasn’t sure if it was from arousal or nervousness. “Wait, but…won’t it hurt you? Like a lot?”

“Well, if you care, I’m going to drink this,” Malfoy pulled from his robes a glass flask of pink liquid. “Pain-numbing potion. I enjoy pain, because, you know, masochist.”

“Sure…”

But this’ll keep it from getting too unbearable. If this goes on for longer than an hour, then you’ll have to administer it to me again. So, try not to cut my esophagus or stomach either, please. Other ground rules…Right. Death from you eating me alone would take too long, so when I make this signal,” Draco mimed slicing his neck, “Slit my throat. And I hope I’m not assuming too much by saying that you can transfigure my dead body back to normal and clean yourself off once you’re done?”

“Of course, I can.” Harry’s knees trembled, but he did his best not to let it show in his voice.

"Perfect. After everything’s all set, just float me into any old bathroom and leave my suicide note on my chest,” Malfoy patted his pocket indicatively. “Any questions?”

“Yes, actually. Why do you want to die?”

“Life’s just not worth living anymore,” Draco said casually. “And I’ll probably get the Dementor’s Kiss for my crimes as a Death Eater at some point, so I’d rather die.”

“Fair enough. One more thing,” Harry paused and pursed his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “And _why_ would you want to do that?”

“I dunno…To provide a prelude, to diffuse the tension. I don’t want to just slice you up like some animal.”

“All right, then. Do whatever you want to me. As long as I end up dead.”

Harry took a deep breath and stepped closer, cupping Draco’s face with his hands. After a moment’s hesitation, he leaned in and kissed him softly. The sweetness was fleeting, however, and Harry deepened the kiss, suddenly pressing his tongue into the other’s mouth. Draco responded by pulling the brunette even closer, grabbing his ass with both hands.

Harry suddenly stopped the kiss and put one hand on Draco’s chest, pushing him towards the bed and shoving him onto the covers. Draco chuckled and licked his lips, starting to unbutton his shirt. “Not getting ahead of ourselves, are we?” He said slyly.

"Shut up,” Harry said roughly, knocking the Slytherin onto his back. He pinned Malfoy’s arms above his head and kissed him once more, their current positions giving Harry a clear advantage. Draco struggled against him, managing to sit up and pull Harry onto his lap so that the latter straddled the former.

Panting, Harry pulled away and frantically began to take off his own shirt. Draco, who was a much faster unbuttoner, tutted at him and quickly rendered them both shirtless. Harry looked down at Draco’s torso and inhaled sharply.

“What?” Malfoy said, irritated about the interruption.

Harry didn’t reply and instead touched Draco’s chest with curious fingers. Long, pale scars crisscrossed his body. “What’s this from?”

“You did this to me,” Draco said grimly. “ _Sectumsempra_. Remember?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Draco leaned forward and nipped Harry’s neck playfully. He gave him a real, encouraging smile.

Harry gave him a kiss in response, then trailed his lips all the way down to his chest, tracing Draco’s scars with his lips. Draco’s breath hitched gratifyingly at Harry’s administrations, but then the Slytherin suddenly grabbed the other’s wrist.

“Do it,” Malfoy commanded, his eyes trailing to the knife-laden table.

Harry nodded quickly and left Draco sitting on the bed. The blades all gleamed silver, and Harry took his time pondering over them before selecting a double-edged knife that was about as long as his arm.

As Harry approached, Draco slipped the flask from his pocket and took a swig before tossing it aside. Harry gently pushed Draco into a lying position, then held the knife over him. “Where do I…?”

Draco took Harry’s wrist again, moving it so the tip of the knife pressed into his lower-left abdomen. With a deep breath, Harry pressed it into his pale skin and dragged it, leaving behind a thin, red line. Draco gasped abruptly, and Harry took the knife away.

“Are you okay?”

Draco, his chest heaving, looked straight into Harry’s eyes. His gaze and voice were both dripping with lust. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Biting his lip, Harry pressed the blade into the same wound, deeper this time. He cut through layers of skin and flesh; blood seeped in earnest now, coating the edges of the knife and flowing onto the blankets. A rush of adrenaline sped through Harry, and he grinned. The thrill of slicing Draco open and having him at his mercy was almost too much to bear.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Draco moaned as the knife carved his torso. To his immense delight, Harry felt the telltale pressure of an erection on his leg. Stimulated by sight of blood flowing and Draco’s arousal, it didn’t take Harry long to get hard as well.

Harry began to employ a sawing technique, cutting out a chunk of fatty, glistening flesh from Draco’s body. He held it to his mouth and bit into it; it tasted like…well, raw human flesh. It wasn’t terrible, and Harry chewed it triumphantly, blood trickling through his teeth.

“How is it?” Draco said, his voice a bit weak, but he smirked as confidently as ever.

“Divine,” Harry spit out what he didn’t swallow and readied his knife again.

He sliced another section of Draco’s body, the blade bumping against his ribs. Harry eagerly ripped the flesh back to reveal shining white bone. Draco made a noise of pure agony and pleasure as Harry scraped his teeth along his ribs, tearing out little sections of flesh as he went.

“Break it,” Draco begged, and with all his might, Harry abruptly pressed down on a singular rib. The sound of snapping bone mixed with Draco’s erotic howls; spurred on by the gruesome noises, Harry broke it on the other side and brought the section of bone to his mouth, slurping at the edges where marrow had begun to fall.

The word _bloodlust_ had taken on glorious new meaning. Draco cried and moaned as Harry sliced away at his torso, then yanked his pants down and cut chunks of flesh from his legs as well. Organs slowly became visible as Harry unearthed them with his now scarlet-soaked knife: he left most of them untouched but couldn’t resist trying a bit of the Slytherin’s liver.

It was a miracle Draco was even alive, almost an hour later later. Harry sat, gasping, next to him. The sheets dripped blood onto the flagstones, intestines hung in crimson ropes off the edge, and Draco’s pink lungs were visibly rising up and down, albeit weakly. And beneath the sternum, Harry glimpsed a bright, beating heart. It looked delicious.

Draco reached up a carved, wounded arm. One of his fingers was stubby from where Harry had gnawed on it. But his wan face remained handsome as ever. “You…” He coughed, turning his head, and blood spattered onto the sheets. “You’re incredible.”

Harry laughed darkly. Blood painted his chest and his face, and he looked redder than tan. “Thank you, Draco. Ready now?”

Draco nodded, and sliced a hand across his throat for confirmation.

Harry leaned down and gave him one last kiss, blood, saliva, and salty tears mixing. Then he ruthlessly pressed the knife against Draco’s white throat, and quickly pierced his trachea.

Death came in one long rush of ecstasy. Draco let out a silent moan of pleasure, then was still.

Harry sipped at the newest wound he had created, Draco’s blood coppery and warm on his lips. He reached beneath the sternum, grasping the motionless heart with a squelch. The organ was slippery, and firmly attached with strong arteries and veins, but Harry finally got it out. It was beautifully crimson, shining, and intriguing with all its little flaps and valves. Harry bit into it like it was an apple, holding it with one hand and using the other to close Draco’s eyelids. The heart was easily the sweetest meat he had ever tasted - not gamey at all, and even tastier to him since it was his enemy’s heart.

With a bit of difficulty, being terribly full, Harry lifted himself off the bed and retrieved his wand from the corner. He transfigured Draco’s dead body back into its original state - save for the life, of course. With another wave, he cleaned the blood off his skin and dressed them both.

After he deposited Draco’s dead corpse in a bathroom along with his suicide note, Harry closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, hidden in his Invisibility Cloak. He was sated and satisfied. Draco had given him what no one else could, and Harry would be eternally grateful to him, even as his body grew cold.

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU JUST FINISHED READING I'M SO SORRY


End file.
